


One Day at a Time

by benicemurphy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24012415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benicemurphy/pseuds/benicemurphy
Summary: In a world where everything is the same except for one crucial detail, Keith finds himself reliving the same day over and over again. In order to break the loop, he must resolve the problem that is preventing him from moving forward in time.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 36
Kudos: 151
Collections: Star-Crossed: Sheith Soulmate Zine 2020





	One Day at a Time

**Author's Note:**

> This is my contribution to Star-Crossed: Sheith Soulmate Zine! Thank you very much to the mods for bringing this project together. <3

1

Keith wakes up with a groan. His back hurts from tossing and turning all night on his shitty mattress. He’s hungry and tired, and despite both of these things, he has things he needs to do.

He shuffles out of bed and into the tiny kitchen, praying that there might be something he can eat. He tries the refrigerator first, but there’s nothing — just an onion that’s been sitting there for at least a week too long and some moldy cheese.

Huh. He should have eaten that before it went bad.

He tries the cabinets next, looking all the way to the backs to see if there’s something non-perishable and long forgotten. He finds nothing until he wanders into what passes for his living space and plops down on the couch; there’s a crackling sound, like food packaging, and he feels around until he finds an unopened granola bar shoved into the space between the seat cushion and the armrest.

For a brief moment, Keith stops to consider how long it’s been sitting in his couch. Then again, he would have noticed it before if it had been there too long, wouldn’t he? Besides, it’s unopened. How bad could it be? He rips open the packaging and catches the broken pieces that try to fall into the weave of his sofa. He pops those into his mouth and then takes a big bite of the bar, savoring the slight honey flavor and the satisfaction of putting something into his stomach.

There’s no way around it. He’ll have to go into town today.

Keith finishes off the granola bar and shakes the rest of the sleep out of his limbs. It’s time to get up and get moving.

It’s not that it takes a long time to get into the city, it’s the distance. Keith loves riding his dad’s old bike, but it’s a fuel pit. Each time he has to go out, it stretches his already sparse finances a little thinner.

When he arrives, it’s to a mob scene. People are pushing and pulling, hoisting cameras and pens and scraps of paper into the air, all obviously trying to reach something or someone that’s beyond Keith’s sight. He’s too tired to deal with it, doesn’t feel like pushing past the people blocking the main road, so he turns down a side street and goes around.

He’s in and out of the store in twenty minutes. He knows exactly what he can get that will last the longest, fill him up, and stretch his dollars the furthest.

He goes home and makes himself a real meal, washes his dishes, and goes to sleep.

2

The next morning brings nothing but confusion.

Keith wakes up in the same bed, with the same back pain and the same lingering tiredness. He forces himself to get up and go get something to eat — maybe he’s so tired because he’s not eating enough. Before yesterday, he hadn’t had proper groceries in at least a week, so he’s probably running on fumes by now, even after having a good dinner.

He opens his refrigerator to get out the eggs and stops short with his hand outstretched toward the top shelf.

There are no eggs.

In fact, there’s no anything. It’s exactly as bare as it was the day before, including the rotting onion and the moldy cheese, which he could have sworn he’d thrown out but must have forgotten to do so.

Irritated, Keith takes both out and slams them into the trash bin with more force than necessary. At least this time maybe they’ll stay there.

He goes to the cabinets to find a cereal bar or instant oatmeal, something he can put in his stomach before he can figure out what the fuck happened to all of his food, but the cabinets are bare, too.

All of his fucking food is gone. Like the day before had been a complete waste. And to top it all off, he’ll have to stop to refuel on his way home today if he decides to go back into town to replenish his groceries.

There’s not much he can do about it now besides look around and make sure that nothing else has been taken. The little TV with the rabbit ears is still there, plus all of his newspaper clippings, the small box of pictures of his dad, and his desk chair. The blanket he keeps on the futon is fine. His clothes don’t seem to have been ransacked or messed with at all. Just the food.

What kind of person comes all the way out into the desert, into someone else’s home, just to steal their food? And why couldn’t they have stolen from someone whose house was a little easier to get to?!

Keith groans in frustration and does the only thing he can think to do: he gets on his bike and goes back to town.

The crowd from yesterday is still there. What the hell are they looking at? He tries to nudge his way through, but it’s difficult to get close. He still can’t see what has everyone so interested. He turns to the woman next to him.

“Hey, excuse me, what’s going on?”

She spares him only a brief glance when she exclaims, “It’s Takashi Shirogane! The famous Kerberos pilot!”

Keith knows who he is, of course. He’s been following the space program his whole life. Hell, he knows kids who grew up to become pilots at the Garrison. Something in his heart tugs when he thinks about it. It’s hard to think of the Garrison as a missed opportunity; he was a troubled loner kid with a discipline problem when the Garrison sent over their recruit. Even if he hadn’t missed that day, there’s no way anyone would have given him a second glance.

No matter how cool it would be to meet someone who’s been to space — especially someone who piloted the farthest manned mission in the history of mankind and helped bring home ice samples that showed evidence of the existence of life on other planets — he resolves not to waste any more of Takashi Shirogane’s time. After all, he’s still just a loner kid, only now he has no one to answer to. He’s desert trash. He’s not worth anyone’s time.

He catches a glimpse of Takashi Shirogane’s face before he turns to leave and notes that he’s even more handsome in person than he is on TV. Shirogane looks back at him, and there’s a brief moment of eye contact before Keith turns to leave.

Keith tries not to think about it too much. He’d long ago promised himself he’d stop living in the What-Ifs and only think about the Now. He moves on, heading back to the supermarket to repurchase all of his groceries from the day before.

It makes his stomach hurt a little to think about the money he’s wasted coming back to do it all again. He’ll have to pick up a couple of extra jobs as soon as possible to make up for it.

When he gets back, he cooks himself a four-egg omelet out of spite with his new onion and his new cheese.

The bed still sucks, but at least he’s full and satisfied.

When he opens the fridge and cabinets the following morning to find nothing but an old onion and a block of moldy cheese, he nearly screams.

3

It’s obvious that there’s something going on. A person wouldn’t just show up to a random shack in the middle of nowhere, twice, and break in to steal the groceries of all things. Twice.

This time, he doesn’t leave the house. He’ll have to go hungry for a day, but he can manage. Something is happening, and he has to know what it is before he can figure out what to do about it.

After a long day of doing nothing but running over possibilities in his mind, Keith makes sure all of the doors are locked up tight. There’s no way to sneak into or out of the house. Anyone coming in would have to break something or use one of the two doors to the outside.

Before he goes to bed, he finds a marker and a piece of paper and writes himself a note,  just in case. Tomorrow morning, if he wakes up and the note is not on his nightstand, he’ll know for sure. For now, he’ll sleep.

4

The note isn’t there in the morning.

Keith isn’t dumb — he has a decent hunch by now that he’s somehow managed to get himself caught in a time loop — he just doesn’t know why. It’s not unheard of; although time loops are very rare, he has read dozens of accounts from people who claim to have experienced them before. It’s not clear what causes them or how they can be fixed, but obviously whatever Keith is doing right now isn’t enough to get himself out of his. There must be something he has to do.

Rather than dragging himself out of bed this time, he finds himself wide awake and ready to go. He’s on his fourth iteration of the same day, and he’s not thrilled with the idea of living in a house devoid of food for the rest of his life.

Before he goes out, he takes a much-needed shower (even if nobody will remember him, it’s been four days — nobody deserves that) and checks his bank account. It’s at the balance it had before his first shopping trip, which means money isn’t a problem. It also likely means that fuel in his bike isn’t a problem, either. That’s good to know.

He goes into town without much concern for his speed. If he gets a ticket, it won’t matter anyway. He uses the same logic to justify buying himself breakfast, and then later, lunch. The money will come back tomorrow, probably.

The same crowd is still there, but Keith ignores them for the time being. They’ll dissipate soon, either when Shirogane decides to go about whatever he’s doing in town or when they can’t waste any more time standing around in the streets harassing the poor guy. Then maybe Keith will be able to check out his usual route. Maybe there’s something around there that he needs to deal with.

Keith spends the entire day in town. It seems like Takashi Shirogane is out for the day, but it doesn’t seem like a publicity stunt, from what Keith can tell. He knows that the astronauts just got back from the mission a few weeks ago; it’s probably the first time the guy has had a chance to do anything for himself since he got back.

It irritates Keith a little more than he’d like to admit that the guy is getting hounded during what’s probably the first chance he’s had at a normal life on Earth since the mission.

He doesn’t worry too much about it, though. It’s just one day. When this is all over, Takashi Shirogane will have no idea that he’s been mobbed by rabid fans for however many days it takes to figure this out.

It’s been a long time since Keith has had so much free time and been so free with his money. He plays the flight simulator in the arcade for hours, treats himself to dinner at one of the diners open late, and waits for everyone to clear out.

When they’re gone, he walks back toward his bike along the route that had been blocked off every other time. Nothing seems out of the ordinary, and he assumes he hasn’t accomplished anything.

He goes home and hopes this ends soon. He’s getting pretty tired of being around so many people after spending the majority of the past four years completely alone. He writes himself a new note and puts it under his pillow.

The next day, the note isn’t there.

5

He ends up back in town the next day, too. It’s the only thing Keith can think to do. It’s been Wednesday for five days, and he’s tired of his empty fridge and his TV remote that doesn’t work and his smoke detector that keeps beeping.

The first thing he notices is that the normal crowd isn’t there. He wonders if maybe it’s just a coincidence that the note was gone — maybe it just fell and slid under his bed, and it really is Thursday now after all. He nearly panics at the thought — he wasted so much money yesterday — but sags with relief when he runs back to check the fuel gauge on his bike and finds it’s exactly where it should be.

Just in case, though, he keeps an eye out on anything else that might be different.

The same people he saw yesterday are out again today. While he’s not usually one to pay much attention to what anyone else is doing, this is a dire situation. He has to know what’s going on around him at all times. It’s the only way he’ll find clues to figure out how to get out of the time loop.

To make extra certain, he swings by the arcade and checks the flight simulator. His old scores are still there, right at the top, but the new ones are gone.

The only notable exception is Takashi Shirogane. He’s nowhere to be found, despite having been absolutely everywhere Keith went the day before.

Keith wanders around, just observing, until he winds up in a small cafe that doesn’t seem to be very popular. The only other patron at the moment is some sketchy-looking guy in the corner wearing a terrible Marvel superhero disguise, complete with hoodie, sunglasses, and a blue baseball cap. It’s only because Keith recognizes the signature floof hanging down from the front that he realizes who it is.

It seems Takashi Shirogane isn’t feeling up for the attention today. Keith wonders what has changed. If it’s just Keith reliving the same day over and over again, why would Takashi Shirogane suddenly decide to do something differently? Why would he be hiding out here instead of doing his normal errands like every other iteration of the day before?

They make eye contact after Shirogane takes off his sunglasses, and he knows that Shirogane can tell that Keith knows who he is. Keith looks away and doesn’t acknowledge him. It’s obvious that Shirogane really doesn’t want any attention right now, that he’s just trying to eat some normal food and not be bombarded by fans. He looks exhausted, not at all like he looked three days ago, bright and shiny and smiling around all of his “thank yous” and “It was incredibles.”

Keith doesn’t talk to him that day, but he doesn’t forget it. There’s something weird going on with both of them. He replaces his note and falls asleep.

As always, it’s gone when he wakes up, and Keith starts developing a plan.

6

Unfortunately, his plan meets a snag the very next day. He searches all over for Takashi Shirogane, but he can’t find him. Shirogane probably stayed home, or maybe he decided to go somewhere else, or maybe something has happened to him. Keith doesn’t know, but he does know by now that for some reason, Shirogane is the only other person in his life right now that has the ability to change the course of his day.

Admittedly, Keith is starting to get a little desperate. He doesn’t really know why he’s looking for the guy when he clearly just wants to be alone. He just knows that something is going on with both of them, and somehow Shirogane has to be the key to making this end. There’s nothing else. He has no idea how he could possibly be connected to a successful, attractive, world-famous astronaut who likely wants nothing to do with him, but he can’t think of any other reason why this might be happening.

7

The next day, Keith wakes up more tired than ever. His stomach hurts from eating like shit. He’s sick of spending so much time in public. He’s tired of people and crowds and waiting in lines and going back home to an empty house and an empty fridge. He wants this to be over, so badly needs his life back, and he’s not sure how much more he can take.

Takashi Shirogane is in town again, looking about how Keith feels. He’s dressed in the exact same disguise, so it’s easy for Keith to find him.

_ What the hell, _ he figures. If nothing else, if this doesn’t work, at least he’ll have the memory of talking to one of his heroes.

“It’s happening to you too, isn’t it?” he asks.

Shirogane looks up at him, eyes sunken and unfocused, like he hasn’t slept in a week. Maybe he hasn’t.

“Yeah,” he says. Keith is momentarily surprised — he hadn’t expected Shirogane to agree so easily.

“How long has it been going on for you?”

Shirogane actually laughs. It’s soft and a little worn, but it’s still a laugh. “I was going to say since Wednesday, but…”

Keith breaks into a small smile. Who knew he was funny?

“Six days ago?” he asks.

Shirogane shrugs, then nods. “Yeah, that sounds about right. Today’s day seven.”

“Yeah,” Keith agrees. “As far as I can tell, we’re the only ones experiencing it.”

“Well,” Shirogane says with a sigh. “Do you maybe want to grab a cup of coffee and talk about it? I’ve been feeling— honestly, kind of crazy, so it’s nice to have someone who’s going through something similar.”

Keith nods. “Lead the way.”

They go back to the same cafe where Keith saw Takashi Shirogane wearing his disguise the first time. It’s not completely empty this time, but it’s still decidedly not busy, and they have their choice of booths. They choose one in a corner that’s partially obscured by a half wall. Keith purposefully sits with his back to the wall so that Shirogane can sit with his back to the rest of the establishment. He doesn’t need anymore people fighting for his time and attention today.

Keith takes a minute to just look at the man before him. He looks so beaten down, so tired, much more so than Keith. Keith wonders what it is that has him so strung out.

“Wait here,” Keith says. “I’ll grab our drinks. What do you want?”

Shirogane makes to stand up, but Keith gently presses him back down into the seat with a hand on his shoulder. “I can’t let you—”

“You can, and you will,” Keith cuts in. “Just… take it easy, man. Let me get you some coffee.”

“I’m the one who offered coffee first,” Shirogane says, and if Keith’s not mistaken, it sounds a little petulant.

He tries to hold back the fond smile that’s threatening to break free. Takashi Shirogane, world-renowned astro-explorer, Golden Boy of the Galaxy Garrison, forever going down in history as the youngest, most accomplished, and most talented pilot in the history of space travel, is a little bit of a brat.

“What?” Shirogane snaps. It only amuses Keith more.

“Nothing,” he shrugs. “Just seems like you’re a little testy when you’re tired.”

Whatever petty hostility Shirogane was trying to conjure up disappears and he huffs another laugh.

“That’s what my grandfather always said.”

There’s something sad about the way he says it. Keith wants to pry, wants to dig into this man and see what goes on in his brilliant, beautiful brain, but it’s not the time.

“Come on, Ta— uh, Shi—. Um. Just tell me what to get. I’m getting bored of standing around waiting for your order. I’m not your waiter.”

“Shiro,” he says. “Just Shiro is fine. And I don’t know, something sweet with lots of caffeine? I’m not really picky. Just something that tastes good.”

Keith blinks. “Okay. I’ll see what I can do.”

The specials board seems like a good place to start. There’s something called a Spunky Monkey, another called Raspberry Pie, and a third called the Nutty Irishman. There are at least ten different weirdly named flavors listed, and he has no idea what any of them are going to actually taste like.

He takes a shot in the dark and orders a large Moon Pie latte for Shiro and a Milky Way latte for himself, based solely on the space-themed names.

A server brings their drinks to the table. He notices Shiro and for a second looks like he’s about to say something, but Keith practically growls at him, and the kid gets the picture and all but jogs away.

Keith brings his drink to his lips. It does smell pretty good. He blows lightly on it and takes a careful sip.

It’s amazing.

It tastes like chocolate and caramel and a little bit of honey, and barely anything like coffee at all.

When he eventually looks up at Shiro again, Shiro is just watching him. He doesn’t seem to have touched his own latte.

“What?” Keith asks. He puts his mug back on the table and self-consciously wipes at his mouth and nose with his free hand.

“I never got your name,” Shiro says.

“Oh. It’s, uh, Keith.”

“Keith,” Shiro says, like he’s testing it out. “Well, thanks, Keith.”

Keith just continues to look at him. Shiro stares back. “For what?” Keith demands. “I didn’t do anything.” His face feels red under Shiro’s scrutiny. It’s been a long time since anyone has paid much attention to him at all, and much longer since someone has focused on him so entirely. “It’s just coffee,” he mumbles.

Shiro finally picks up his cup and takes a sip. The moan he lets out is obscene and does nothing to help dispel the color on Keith’s cheeks.

“Oh my god, this is incredible,” Shiro says. He has his eyes closed and his head tipped back like he’s having some kind of religious experience — which, maybe he is; Keith doesn’t know the guy.

Keith tries to hide his now-cherry-red face in his own drink as he takes another ship. He lets the warmth wash through him as he waits for Shiro to come down from his latte high.

“Wow,” Keith says when Shiro has opened his eyes again. “I thought it was just coffee, but maybe I was wrong.”

Shiro watches him again. The itching desire to hide squirms within him, but he holds his ground.

“It’s not just coffee,” Shiro says at long last. “It’s just… been a while since anyone’s seen me as an actual person.”

Keith says nothing. He doesn’t know how to deal with that information or the implication that Keith has somehow done something special. He clears his throat uncomfortably and takes another sip of coffee rather than respond.

“So. Time loop,” he says, not at all subtle about shifting the focus off of himself.

Shiro laughs and nudges him with his foot under the table. The action is far too familiar, but somehow, Keith doesn’t mind. He feels more at ease with Shiro than he should, for many reasons, but it doesn’t feel wrong.

“Okay. Time loop,” Shiro repeats. “Just because I feel like one of us should say it, I have to ask: Do we seriously think that’s what this is? I mean, do we even know if time loops are possible? This could all be some weird, elaborate prank.”

“It’s a time loop,” Keith says with certainty. “I’ve left markers for myself every night to be sure.” At the incredulous look Shiro gives him, he feels the need to justify himself. “I know it sounds crazy, but I’m sure of this. There has to be a reason it’s happening to us.”

“I believe you, and I agree.”

Keith feels himself gaping. “...Seriously? Just like that?”

Shiro smiles. “I’ve heard of them before. They’re rare, and nobody really knows what causes them, but there are a few handfuls of people who have given their accounts. I used to read about them a lot.”

“Then why did you give me that look when I told you I left markers for myself?” Keith demands. Of the two of them, he’s certainly not the crazy one.

“Because,” Shiro laughs, “you just dove right in. You had a theory, you tested it, and you found supporting evidence. Very methodical of you.”

Keith’s face starts heating up again. He wishes it would stop doing that. “I don’t see why that’s funny.”

It’s not fair that Shiro can look so endeared when they’ve only just met. “It’s not funny. I like that about you.”

Keith swallows hard. His heart hammers in his chest. With every passing minute, he can feel something growing between them. He wants to be freaked out by it, but he isn’t; it feels right, though maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

“How do we know they’re telling the truth?” he asks. “The people you read about.”

Shiro shrugs. “We don’t. Not really. It’s impossible to verify, and there’s no physical evidence that it’s possible. But all of these people claim to have experienced something.”

“And here we are,” Keith observes.

Shiro sips his coffee and hums. “Here we are.”

“So, I mean, why were you looking that stuff up anyway?”

“Well,” Shiro says, “Call me a romantic, but I’ve always hoped there was a special person out there for me— someone who would love me, support me, take care of me. Someone who wouldn’t want me to change. Someone I wouldn’t want to change for me, either.”

“What does that have to do with this?”

Shiro pushes aside his cup and places both hands on the table. For a second it almost seems like he’s going to reach out, maybe try to take Keith’s hand, but he doesn’t. He just looks Keith in the eye with the kind of focus that makes it impossible for Keith to look away, and Keith finds himself leaning closer to him across the table, trying to get close, like they’re sharing secrets.

“Have you ever heard of soulmates, Keith?”

Keith’s heart nearly stops. Of course he’s heard of soulmates, but... but soulmates aren’t real.

...Right?

Shiro must interpret his pause as a denial, so he continues. “Hear me out. They’re super rare, but there have been reported incidents of people finding their soulmates. And I don’t mean like, when you meet someone and you like all of the same movies and music and have the same beliefs and stuff like that. I mean a  _ real cosmic soulmate. _ Think about it! If time loops are possible, why not this?

“There are written accounts of people experiencing all kinds of bizarre things in the time leading up to meeting the person they end up spending the rest of their lives with. People who were suddenly compelled to travel somewhere they’ve never wanted to go before only to meet the person of their dreams, people who get lost along the same routes they take every day until a kind stranger helps them find their way, people who see an unfamiliar face in their dreams and then end up answering a roommate ad from the very same person. I could keep going.”

“No, I get it,” Keith says. His mind is spinning. Yes, he’s heard these stories, but they’ve always sounded like faux-romantic bullshit to him. He’s always written them off as fake, some trick of the mind or people deluding themselves into believing they found their soulmate because they’re that desperate for someone to love them. “You think...?” It can’t be.

“Well, I don’t want to be presumptuous...” Shiro trails off. One hand rises to the back of his neck, scratching at his undercut. He looks bashful, at least, though Keith doesn’t know what to do with any of that. “I just meant, you know, maybe it’s time. For both of us.” He starts talking faster, the words falling out like he can’t stop them. “I’m not saying necessarily, you know, that it’s us. Just maybe, I dunno, maybe we’re both experiencing it at the same time because we’re both close to finding someone? But I’m not saying it’s  _ not _ us, either! I wouldn’t mind — I mean, shit, that sounded weird, I don’t even know if you’d be interested — I just mean even though I haven’t known you long, it feels nice, being around you and talking to you, and I like the way you do things, like with that server earlier, and the coffee, and— okay, yeah, I’ll shut up now.”

Keith’s doing a terrible job of holding back the laughter that threatens to bubble over. He doesn’t know how he ever thought this man was so cool. He’s just a big, nerdy, romantic dork. And that’s so much better than any preconceived notions Keith had of him.

He has to let this poor guy off the hook before he implodes. “It’s okay,” he chuckles. “I’m— I mean, yeah, I’m interested. Of course. It’s weird, but yeah, I feel it too. I feel like... like I need to protect you, I guess. Sorry if that’s weird,” he adds, embarrassed. “I don’t know why. But I feel comfortable around you, and that hasn’t happened since... well, since my dad died, I guess.”

Shiro sobers and does reach out this time. Keith allows himself to take the offered hand.

“When did he die?”

“When I was eight,” Keith says. “I ended up in foster care after that. I always wonder how things might have been different if he’d come home. Maybe I could have made something of myself, you know? Had a family, a good education, maybe a house with a street address.” He huffs a laugh at his own joke. Shiro doesn’t get it, but that’s alright. “I always wanted to go to space, you know.”

At this, Shiro perks up. “Yeah? Why didn’t you apply to the Garrison?”

Keith sighs. “I was a bit of a discipline case back then. I wanted to, but with my record and no stable home life to speak of, they wouldn’t even let me sit for the test.”

The hand holding Keith’s tightens, but not painfully. It feels grounding.

“What?” Shiro looks almost outraged, which is ridiculous. Keith never would have made it through the Garrison, and he knows it.

“It’s okay. That place wasn’t for me. I would have been kicked out in the first semester.”

“No. You just needed someone to be there for you. I could have done that.”

Keith can’t help but smile. “You wouldn’t have even known me.”

“I recruited at a lot of schools. I could have met you.”

Keith laughs. He hopes it doesn’t sound too bitter when he says, “I was out the day they recruited at my school. Had to get placed in a new home.”

Shiro pauses, then asks, “What school?”

Keith tells him, and Shiro curses. “I recruited there.”

It’s nearly maddening, thinking of what could have been. Keith remembers how angry he’d felt when he was told he couldn’t go to school. He hadn’t known why at the time, just knew that he wanted to be there more than anything. He was even more upset the next day when he found out there’d been a simulator test for the Garrison. He’d refused to listen to the chatter and skipped the rest of the day after lunch.

“Keith,” Shiro begins hesitantly. “It’s okay if you don’t believe in things like fate. But I do. It feels like I was destined to meet you. I feel it all the way down to my bones. And now that I’ve met you, I don’t want to let you slip away.”

Keith nods. He’s not sure how to take all of this, all of the what-ifs and could-have-beens, the implication that he could somehow mean something to this amazing man, the idea that there’s a future for him somewhere, with someone. But he’s been lonely for a long time, and he’d be an idiot to pass up the offer of companionship with someone who makes him feel like he can be exactly who he is.

“I don’t either,” he admits

“If we wake up tomorrow and nothing has changed, we can forget about everything we’ve talked about,” Shiro offers. “I won’t be offended. We can try to figure out another plan to get out of this loop. But if we wake up tomorrow and it’s finally Thursday, maybe... Maybe it’s not such a crazy idea?”

He looks so earnest, maybe even nervous, and Keith wants to soothe him. It is a nice idea.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Maybe it’s not such a crazy idea.”

They agree to spend the night together — just together in Shiro’s apartment, just to see if they’re both still there in the morning.

1

Keith wakes up on an unfamiliar couch. The smell of bacon wafts in from the kitchen. There’s a notice from his bank about suspicious account activity — he’ll have to deal with that later.

The date on his phone says Thursday.


End file.
